


The IT Guy

by e1evenc1ara (ThedosianScholar)



Series: The IT Guy Series [1]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedosianScholar/pseuds/e1evenc1ara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Maitland kids outgrow their need for a nanny, Clara Oswald lands a job at TARDIS Industries, the world’s leading company for technological research. It is there that she meets a man they call ‘The Doctor’, and the next chapter of their lives begins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic during the hiatus between Series 7 and The Day of the Doctor. It was my first Doctor Who chapter fic, my first AU, and my first Eleven/Clara fic. It's probably my favorite out of everything I've ever written. It currently has one sequel, Postcards From New York, and I've also written a collection of one-shots titled Missing Files that fill in some gaps in the narrative (usually in response to prompts from my readers.) The next sequel, currently untitled, will hopefully start up sometime around Christmas this year (2014), if not sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, the chapters start out really short and then gradually shift to an average of 1000-2500 words per chapter.

Chapter One

TARDIS Industries was the world leader in innovative technological research and production. Clara still couldn’t believe she’d managed to get an interview at the London-based company, even if it was just for a receptionist’s position. She’d moved to London after university to look after the Maitland children for a few weeks before starting off on a tour of Europe with some friends. Then, their mother died, and she put her travelling plans on hold to help them adjust to the lost of their mum. While Clara didn’t regret her decision to serve as a nanny for the past three years, she was certain that a degree in history and experience in child-minding didn’t make her resume stand out in the pile.

But she got an interview. She took the train into the city and tried to look like she fit in with the businessmen and women walking about in their finely tailored suits as they sipped coffees from Caffe Nero and chatted on their expensive mobile phones. The TARDIS offices were located in one of London’s iconic skyscrapers, and she had to go through a metal detector and get a badge at the security desk before she was directed towards the lifts. Clara looked down at her badge, which even had her name printed on it, and thought of the security system at the Maitlands' house. She still remembered the code – 792227.

She second-guessed every life decision she’d ever made on the ride up to the eleventh floor. She tapped her foot on the tile floor, grateful that most of the other lift passengers had gotten off on the fifth floor so she could fidget in peace. Once the doors opened to the TARDIS offices, however, Clara set her shoulders back and walked confidently into the large, sweeping room that took up the entire floor.

She paused to stare at everything around her. It was a very modern arrangement, all clean lines and soft lights, and the environment was strangely soothing. Even the sound of the ringing telephone was more pleasant than jarring. Clara smiled, immediately falling in love with the place. She then approached the reception desk, where a redheaded temp asked her who she was there to see.

"Madam Vastra," she replied, feeling her faux confidence seep out of her pores when the woman met her eyes.

"Ah, yes. You’re the new receptionist."

"Oh, no," Clara replied with a smile and a polite laugh. "I mean, hopefully. It’s just an interview.”

"Not from what I heard."

"Pardon?"

The woman nodded towards something over her shoulder, and when Clara turned, she saw a tall, elegant woman standing there with a patient smile on her lips.

“You must be Clara Oswald.”

\- - - -

Vastra gave her a quick tour of the offices; apparently the majority of what she saw was just the marketing division. Several other floors housed many of the other departments, as well as the research and development labs. Clara was fascinated by everything and everyone she saw. The tour then ended when they took a seat in Vastra’s office. Clara sat awkwardly on the edge of the seat in front of Vastra’s desk, watching the woman take a sip of her coffee with curiosity.

"So, Ms Oswald—may I call you Clara?"

She nodded.

"Excellent. If you could describe yourself in one word, what word would you choose?"

Vastra crossed rested her arms on the surface of her desk and watched Clara curiously. Clara’s lips parted as she tried to think of a word, any word, but nothing came to mind. She felt like her brain was malfunctioning. “I dunno. I suppose… Hard-working?”

Vastra smiled and shook her head. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me what you really feel about yourself.”

Clara stared blankly at the nameplate on Madam Vastra’s desk and then said, “Feisty.”

That earned a small chortle of amusement. “Really?”

She nodded and gave a non-committal shrug.

"And if you could describe TARDIS Industries in one word, which would you choose?"

She thought long and hard about that one. “Future.”

"Good," Madam Vastra replied, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. "And how do you think ‘feisty’ will add to the ‘future’, Ms Oswald?"

"Smashingly," Clara offered, earning another laugh. This was not how she expected a job interview at a major company to go.

"I would imagine so.” Vastra slipped on her spectacles and her tone shifted to something slightly more professional. “You’re from Blackpool?"

"Yes."

Madam Vastra pulled out a piece of paper that Clara recognized as her resume. “You moved to London in 2008?”

"Yes, ma’am."

Vastra’s eyes rose to meet Clara’s in what was one of the most intense and peculiar moments of her life. She felt like the woman was trying to peer into her soul, as if she could read her thoughts and tell if she were lying. Clara tried not to fidget in her seat.

A wide smile spread across Vastra’s lips. Apparently she approved of what she saw. “When can you start?”


	2. Chapter 2

There were only so many cups of coffee Clara could see before she broke down and fetched a cup for herself. After she handed back her visitor’s pass to the security office and walked past the metal detector, she searched the street for the nearest coffee shop and was grateful to find a café just a block away from where she stood.

She couldn’t believe she had a job—an actual, proper job with a desk and a paycheque and, hopefully, more mature co-workers. It was strange how oddly all the pieces had fallen into place. The temp at reception and Vastra had both treated her like they knew more of her than what was in her pathetic resume. Her father had given her tons of advice about the interview process, most of which she hadn’t asked for but she listened to anyway. She had expected more probing questions about her past, about teamwork, about expected pay, etc. She felt like this job had literally fallen in her lap. She was suspicious to a degree, but Clara was far too grateful to start drawing up conspiracy theories.

When she entered the café, the sounds of honking cabs and heels clicking on the pavement were replaced by the hissing steam of the espresso machine and the dull hum of idle chatter. She walked a few paces towards the back of the queue and immediately got that feeling like she was being watched.

She inhaled deeply and released the breath, reminding herself not to be paranoid. Caffeine probably wasn’t the best solution to her nervous mood, but when she got to the bar she ordered a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso. There was no turning back now.

As she moved to the other side of the bar, Clara glanced around the café with optimistic curiosity. It was a small place, but it was filled to the brim with workers and the odd tourist. Clara checked her phone and saw that it was just around lunch hour. Her interview didn’t feel like it had run that long.

"Vanilla latte for Clara!"

Clara thanked the barista and grabbed her drink from the bar. She was poised to take the first sip when she turned and ran headlong into a tall man in a brown suit. They both took a step back and apologised profusely for their clumsiness, their tones high pitched with surprise. A bit of foam had spurted out of her cup and splashed across his white shirt.

"I’m so sorry!" she said, mortified. 

Flustered, she grabbed a few napkins from the bar, but the man was already offering her a polite smile that dismissed any need for further apology. He had nice teeth, and hair… and really beautiful, brown eyes. “It’s just a bit of foam,” he assured her. “Should come right out.”

"I’m so sorry, again. It’s awfully crowded in here."

He nodded. “Yeah. Fills to the brim around this time during the week. I usually try to come later, but I’ve got a meeting in half an hour.”

"Oh?" she said, keeping the conversation going. It wasn’t every day that she ran headlong into an attractive, friendly man… and spilled coffee on him. A part of her brain wouldn’t allow her to forget that part. "Where do you work?"

"Oh, TARDIS Industries."

"Oh?" she said, chiding herself silently for sounding like a dim parrot. "I’ve just got a job there. Receptionist, marketing."

"Oh, lovely. I work in research."

"Ah, you’re one of the brains.”

He laughed. “You could say that, I guess.”

"Cappuccino for David at the bar!" called the barista, grabbing the man’s attention. Clara watched the man disappear into the small crowd that separated them from the coffee bar, but then he returned. "Well, it was nice to meet you…?"

She watched him with a smile, wondering what he was going to say next. She then felt a jolt of embarrassment when she realised he was prompting her for her name. She lowered the sleeve on her cup and showed him the name written in permanent marker.

He squinted at it. “Elana?”

Clara frowned at the cup. “I swear, a barista’s handwriting is in the same realm of a doctor’s. Clara.”

"Ah, well. Nice to meet you, Clara. I’m David."

She beamed. “Nice to meet you, David.”

She watched him walk out of the shop, smiling giddily to herself. He hadn’t been overly flirtatious, but he had that sort of easy charm that was infectious and appealing. Clara snapped out of her daze when someone brushed against her elbow and reminded her of the pressing need to find a seat or head outside. There weren’t any tables available, so she headed towards the door, not really sure what she was going to do next. As she wove through the ever-growing crowd, Clara got that feeling again like she was being watched. She couldn’t shake it, but chalked it up to lingering nerves from her interview. Once she was out the door, she got a call from her friend Nina.

"Nina, hi! Yes—I got the job!"


	3. Chapter 3

The moment her alarm sounded that morning, Clara rolled off her mattress with a groan and landed on the floor. It wasn’t a hard fall since her mattress was currently on the floor of her new flat in Brixton. Rolling onto the floor had been the most effective way for her to wake up during the past week, and Clara worried what she would do when she finally did raise the mattress a good two or three feet in the air.

As she brushed her teeth, Clara thought about her first week at TARDIS Industries and how well she was settling in. She had been rather intimidated by the office setting, especially one that belonged to such a huge and important company, but everyone was very friendly and the computers and telephone systems weren’t difficult to learn. She felt like she had most of her daily routines down, so all that was left was to make them become second-hand nature to her.

She said goodbye to Nina on her way out the door. Nina was her best friend from school, a gorgeous girl with curly hair and dark skin that worked in human relations at a small publishing agency. She had been living in the city for a while, but her last flatmate had been her ex-boyfriend, who vacated the flat rather unceremoniously when their relationship fell to pieces. She’d been struggling to pay rent for weeks until Clara told her that she was moving out of the Maitlands’ house. It was small and a long commute from the city, but Clara didn’t mind the train ride. She would read or sip her coffee as she listened to music, her thoughts usually a million miles away.

It was the end of the month, which was when Clara was supposed to upload a huge database file to the main server. It was a file she was supposed to work on all month, and even though it was her only second week on the job, she had put a lot of work into it. That was why she had to stifle a wail of agony when her computer froze 

"No," she gasped. "No, no no no…"

She clicked the mouse frantically. Nothing.

Clara picked up the phone and quickly dialled the extension for Jenny Flint, the office administrator. Clara was still having trouble understanding who does what and what their titles are, but she made friends with Jenny right away.

"Jenny Flint."

"Jenny? It’s Clara. My computer’s frozen. Bad. I hadn’t saved the database file for the monthly report and… I-I don’t know what to do," she said rapidly, overwhelmed with gut-wrenching panic.

"You should call the Doctor."

"The who?"

Jenny laughed. “Yeah, it’s what they call him downstairs. He works in IT. They should call him the magician more like; it’s closer to a miracle what he does with a computer.”

"What’s his actual name?" Clara asked, already pulling out her telephone directory book.

"You know, I dunno. I never really asked. Always just called him Doctor." 

"OK, thanks Jenny," Clara said before hanging up the phone. She then picked it up again and dialled the extension listed for the IT department.

"IT."

"Um, hello. This is Clara up in marketing. I was told to ask for the Doctor?"

"Speaking."

"Oh." He didn’t sound at all like she expected. "My computer’s frozen."

"Have you tried rebooting?" he asked, sounding rather bored.

"Well, I was sort of hoping to avoid that because I might lose a huge database file if I do, and I really don’t want to get sacked my second week in."

If she wasn’t mistaken, he chortled in response to that. “What did you say your name was?”

"Clara—Oswald. Marketing. New receptionist?"

"Ah, right. Yes," he said, his tone suddenly shifting. Clara got that funny feeling again. "I’ll be right up."

The line went dead. Clara stared at the phone for a moment before returning her attention to her frozen computer. She knew she should leave it be, but she was hoping that it would magically unfreeze if she a certain sequence of keys. At one point she typed you useless fucking fuck over and over again with no response from the machine. That was when the buzzer alerted her to someone at the door.

Clara looked up and saw a tall, lanky man with the most unusual face standing on the other side of the glass. He nodded to her and she realised this must be ‘The Doctor’. She buzzed him in and he approached her with an almost sheepish look on his face.

"Are you the Doctor?" she asked, trying not to grimace at the unusual title.

"Yes."

"Thank god."

Clara scooted back in her chair and stood to give him access to the desktop. 

He cast a sideways glance in her direction, coughed lightly, and then sat down in her chair. His knees hit the desk when he attempted to scoot forward and Clara hid a smile behind her hand.

"Blimey. How short are you?" he asked, searching for the lever that lowered the chair.

"Oi," she replied in a sharp but playful tone.

She watched as he started typing sequences of keys on the keyboard like he was playing classical piano. He pulled up a blue screen and Clara gasped as he started entering in some sort of code.

"How did you do that?" she asked eagerly, impressed.

"Shh, busy," he replied.

She was too busy staring at his long fingers as he continued to type and wondering when bow ties came back into fashion to notice when he’d finished.

"It should be all there. Might have lost a few changes to your database file, but your computer is set up with an automatic backup every Thursday at midnight, so you’re really lucky to have saved so much."

Clara released a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding and smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much. I really can’t—you saved my life.”

He smiled tightly as he stood. “Just doing my job.”

"Of course," she replied less enthusiastically, worrying suddenly that she was being unprofessional. "Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?"

He stared at her for a moment, a thoughtful smile on his face before he turned towards the door with a slight shrug. “People just call me the Doctor.”

Clara watched him slip through the glass door and disappear around the corner. It was a solid five seconds later that she realised she was staring at empty space and sat back down at her computer, determined to finish her work so she could leave at a reasonable hour. She didn’t leave the office until seven because her thoughts kept wandering to the strange man with the odd manners and funny chin.

Also, her computer froze again.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor’s desk was terribly cluttered, more so than usual. While the electronics were clean and relatively dust free, he had several post-it notes tacked here and there with outdated reminders, pens and pencils and permanent markers that were broken or out of ink, USB flash drives scattered about like fallen leaves, cords and cables for devices that became redundant at least five years ago, and several cups of half-drunk tea.

Thomas Strax stared at the chaos with a frown on his face and his hands on his hips. He was tired of the mess, tired of watching his co-worker nearly destroy his equipment by spilling old tea all over his keyboard like it were some daily ritual. One of the post-its was so old and so tea-stained that the ink had bled and the words were barely legible. The Doctor even had to fix it to the edge of his monitor with a piece of transparent tape since the adhesive on the back no longer performed its basic function.

Strax had never understood such sentiment. His desk was perfectly neat and organised, everything in its proper place and absolutely no liquids anywhere near the electronics.

He was just about to step forward and remove the first of the many cups of cold tea when the door to the office opened and in stepped the Doctor, whistling like a boy whose just been let out of school.

"Hello, Strax! Having a good morning?"

Strax scowled. He wasn’t sure he liked his co-worker’s cheery mood more or less than the sullen one he’d been sporting over this past year. “No.”

"Thought not. Fancy popping out for some breakfast? I’m sure they won’t miss us too much if we step out for half an hour. What do you think?"

"Sir, it’s the first of the month!" he declared, his cheeks flushing at the very thought of abandoning work.

The Doctor frowned. “I thought I told you to stop calling me  _Sir._ ”

"Sorry, Sir."

His frown deepened and he thrust a finger in Strax’s face.

"Sorry. Just sorry."

At first Strax was relieved at the return of the Doctor’s dour demeanour, but then he found the flash of darkness more unsettling than his off-key rendition of Sam Cooke tunes. Strax just wished that they could both get back to work and focus on the menial tasks that he enjoyed so much. That was why the Doctor started working in the IT department in the first place—to distract himself from the past.

"You seem to be in a good mood?" Strax offered, hoping to divert attention from his faux pas.

The Doctor smiled, almost having forgotten. “Yes, I find I am.”

Strax watched his friend remove his coat and scarf and toss them with a playful flourish onto the hooks by the door. It was amazing how someone so naturally disposed to tangling his limbs around telephone cords could pull such a thing off. The Doctor’s life had become infinitely easier when the office upgraded to cordless everything.

"Anything in particular bring it on?" Strax asked curiously. He could really care less, but he liked to think he and the Doctor had a bond, and also Jenny and Vastra were always hounding him for information on the Doctor’s precious  _feelings_.

"Just a good night’s sleep, is all," the Doctor replied airily, tapping his fingers on the surface of his desk like he were playing a piano.

"No more nightmares, then?"

He didn’t look up at Strax. Instead, his gaze focused on the faded post-it note taped to his monitor. “No,” he replied, another tight smile stretching across his face as he looked over at Strax. “Just sleep.”

He flicked the post-it lightly with his finger before clapping his other hand on Strax’s shoulder and bounding towards the door. “C’mon, Straxy. Let’s you a breakfast sandwich and a good cup o’ tea.”

Strax frowned but followed the Doctor to the door, grabbing his coat while the other man redressed in the clothes he’d just taken off. He never understood him. “What about our work?”

"What are they going to do?" the Doctor replied with a cheeky grin. "Fire me?"


	5. Chapter 5

Clara broke into a nervous sweat as she dashed towards TARDIS Industries that morning. Her train had been delayed half an hour due to either maintenance or traffic, and now she was nearly ten minutes late for work. It was only her second week on the job and she just knew this was a sackable offense. Who was answering the phones? Who was letting visitors in? Who was signing for packages and working on the logs for the month?

Over the weekend, a work crew had constructed scaffolding all along the entrance of the building and their presence promised to cause quite a racket. She didn’t know what they were working on, even though all the employees had been given a memo the week before explaining why the crew would be doing repairs to the entrance facade for the next week. Clara hated constructions sites, especially whenever she had to walk under scaffolding or listen to a jackhammer all day. The Maitlands’ neighbours had done renovations on their house a few years ago and every morning she woke up to the sound of hammering, sawing, and men shouting filtering in through her window.  She was now conditioned to scowl whenever she saw men at work.

The door to the building opened just as she was ten feet away from the entrance. She attempted to trot towards the door in a dignified manner, still rushing to get to her desk even though she was certain it was too late to salvage her job. Her anxiety about her tardiness was quickly forgotten when something crashed overhead and she heard one of the workers cry out.

"Watch out!" she cried as a heavy bucket fell towards the pavement, right where the man who’d just left the building was now walking.

She didn’t even think as she flew towards him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist as she used her momentum to pull him out of harm’s way. The bucket cracked when it hit the pavement and heavy industrial paste splattered onto the ground.

The man grabbed hold of Clara as her feet tangled beneath her and they nearly fell to the ground. She stood up straight and met his eyes, adrenaline causing her heart to thump rapidly in her chest. She recognized him immediately.

"It’s you," she said, surprised. "Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," the Doctor replied, although his eyes were round as saucers as he stared at the bucket that had nearly crushed him. "Thank you. You’re a lot stronger than you look."

Clara laughed nervously and took a step back. The crew raced over to apologise, and for the next two minutes they both assured them that they were fine and, while it was not said outright, that they weren’t going to file complaints.  Clara forgot all about her lateness until the crewmen left them standing in front of the doorway alone and the Doctor offered to buy her breakfast.

"Oh! I can’t. Thank you… Sorry. I’m really late for work."

"I had noticed. It’s okay; they can do without you for twenty minutes. You did just have a near death experience."

“ _You_  did,” she corrected. “I’m fairly certain Vastra won’t turn a blind eye to my late arrival on account of it.”

"Oh no, please—I insist. Unless you really don’t want to, of course," he added with less surety. "But you needn’t worry about your job. Vastra will understand."

"Will she?" Clara replied dubiously.

"Yeah," he said with a little grin of satisfaction. "I’ll call in a favour."

"Why would you do that?" Clara asked, grateful but curious.

His expression softened. “It’s the least I can do.”

When she still looked unsure, the Doctor pulled out his mobile and started a call. “Vastra, it’s me. Clara’s going to be in rather late this morning.” There was a pause as he listened to the woman on the other line. “Well, she just saved my life, so I thought I’d buy her breakfast.” Vastra’s response made the Doctor’s eyebrows shoot up. Clara watched with wonder as he finished the call and put his phone back in his pocket. “You’re covered for the next hour, she says.”

"The next  _hour_?” she repeated in surprise.

"So, what do you say?" he asked once more, shifting on his feet.

Clara felt like she was being rewarded for showing up late to work. She couldn’t say no to the man standing in front of her; it would be ungracious, and she was far too curious to say no to an opportunity to learn more about him. Also, she’d skipped breakfast that morning.

"Alright, yeah. Got anywhere in mind?"

He led her to a nearby café that he claimed served the best scones in London. It was only a five minute walk from the office, so she felt a little less anxious about stepping away from work. A waitress brought them a pot of tea after they sat down and Clara found herself staring at the man in front of her while they chewed their food. He met her eyes and she smiled politely.

"So," he began after finishing a bit of scone. "How do you find working at TARDIS Industries?"

She inhaled slowly and nodded. “I like it, I think. It’s all still very new. I’m pretty sure my computer hates me, but everyone’s nice and the work isn’t hard.”

He nodded along as she spoke. “Vastra seems to like you.”

"Really?" Clara replied hopefully. She didn’t doubt him, but Vastra had a very cool demeanour; she was difficult to read.

“ _Really_. Mm—have you tried this one?” he asked, holding up what was left of his cinnamon scone. “Incredible.”

Clara chuckled and took a bite of the one that was on her plate. “Oh, yeah. These are really good.”

"Aren’t they?"

She regarded him curiously. “So do people really just call you the Doctor?”

He nodded, still chewing.

"And they don’t think that’s weird?"

"At first, yeah. Do  _you_  think it’s weird?”

"Well, yeah. Sounds a bit pretentious. Are you actually a doctor?"

"What if I were? Would that be less strange?"

"Not really. What would a doctor be doing working in IT?"

He shrugged, still smiling. “Depends on the doctor.”

She narrowed her eyes, a faint smile gracing her lips as she tried to suss him out. He was definitely weird, but somehow very genuine despite the fact that he was obviously keeping secrets. Nobody was that reluctant to give out their name without a reason.

"So what were you doing leaving the office this morning?" she asked.

He sat back in his chair and scratched the back of his head. “Going to fetch breakfast. My mate Strax was going to come with me until Maggie from sales rung about another virus.” He nodded knowingly. “You know, I think she fancies him. Fifth virus she’s claimed to have this month.”

Clara laughed. “Do you get a lot of girls claiming to have viruses to get your attention?”

The Doctor’s eyes lowered to the last bit of scone on his plate and the corners of his lips lifted. “No. Usually they just say their computer’s frozen.”

Her jaw dropped at his cheek. “My computer  _was_  frozen.”

"Yeah, it was," he conceded, grinning. He still seemed pretty satisfied with himself.

Clara hid her smile behind her cup of tea and took another sip.

"So is this a habit of yours?" he asked. "Saving people from falling objects."

"Only when they need saving." she laughed lightly. "I’m sorry… I feel as if I’m in another interview."

"So do I."

"What are we interviewing for?"

"I dunno. We’ve got to stop asking questions."

"But how will we get to know each other better?"

The Doctor stared at her for an extended moment, and Clara strangely felt like she should apologise. She didn’t know why, but the look on his face made it seem like she’d said something wrong. 

"Well," he said, sitting up straight and averting his eyes. "How indeed?" 


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor stared ahead with a rather grim expression on his face and his hands shoved in his coat pockets as they walked back from the café. Clara cast sideways glances at him, both concerned and frustrated at the sudden turn in his mood. She went over their conversation in her mind hoping she could figure out what had set him off, but she came up with nothing. She felt like they had been starting to get to know one another and now he was back to being a complete mystery to her.

"Looks like rain," she said as they turned a corner.

Clara always knew a conversation was suffering when the subject turned to the weather, but she would say just about anything to break the silence between them.

He squinted up at the overcast sky. “It does.”

Silence. Clara chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her lip. “Got a lot of work to get back to?”

"Probably. Shouldn’t take long to catch up."

"That’s good."

Silence. She couldn’t take it anymore.

"Have I said something?" she asked before they crossed the street.

"Sorry?"

"You seem upset. Did I say something to upset you?"

The Doctor looked genuinely alarmed. “No! No. You have been nothing but wonderful, Clara. I’m just…” He struggled for words. “Not entirely myself right now.”

Clara nodded in understanding, even though that didn’t explain much. “It’s alright.”

She crossed the street, thinking the Doctor was beside her, but then he trotted to a stop beside her before they reached the construction at the front of the TARDIS building.

"I really appreciated your company," he insisted, surprising her with the eagerness of his expression. "Not to mention your act of heroism earlier."

She couldn’t help but laugh. She may have saved him from a terrible injury, but the last thing Clara considered herself was heroic. “I’d say any time, but I wouldn’t recommend you linger near any more falling objects.”

He smiled at her.

"I enjoyed breakfast," she added.

His smile tightened. “So did I. Another time?”

Clara nodded. “Sure.”

\- - - -

"Hey, Clara," Jenny said as she leaned across Clara’s desk at the end of the day. There was a glint in her eye and the sound of a proposition lingering in her tone. "Have you got any plans for the evening?"

"None that I can think of," Clara replied, although she was now wracking her brain for any previous engagements.

A mild look of surprise crossed Jenny’s face before she pressed on. “Well then, Vastra and I were wondering if you’d like to join us for drinks. Maybe a bit to eat? It’ll be our treat.”

Clara’s computer chimed once before shutting down, distracting her from her reply. “Oh… yes. I’d love to.”

Jenny grinned and said that she and Vastra would meet at her desk in the next few minutes. Clara watched her walk towards Vastra’s office and wondered how she had landed a job where people laughed off showing up late to work and then offered her free food. There was something funny in the water in this place. She didn’t feel threatened by it, but she always felt like everyone else was in on a secret she wasn’t privy to.

They hopped into a cab, which Vastra paid for, to a wine bar on Embankment. They had to walk downstairs into what looked like an old cellar with sloping brick walls with exposed piping, crammed full of wooden tables and chairs. It was certainly atmospheric. Empty wine bottles served for candlesticks, and the flickering light made everyone’s shadows dance against the wall and ceiling.

The three women sat at a free table near the far wall and did nothing but smile politely at each other while they got situated. Then a few pleasant remarks about the locale were made, and once the waiter came by and took their drink orders, there was nothing topical left to chat about.

"So, how long have you two been together?" Clara asked.

Vastra smiled and took Jenny’s hand in hers, a seemingly involuntary gesture. “Almost five years now. Shortly after Jenny was hired by TARDIS Industries.”

"Oh wow. Office romance," Clara said with a grin.

"Yes," Vastra replied with a grin of her own. Jenny also smiled, but tried to hide the fact by bowing her head and biting her lips. "So, the Doctor told me you performed quite the act of heroism this morning."

Clara was glad it was dark because she immediately felt her cheeks grow warm. Vastra’s train of thought wasn’t lost to her. “I suppose I did, but it feels strange to think of it as heroism.”

"Don’t be so modest, Clara," Jenny insisted. "I can still scarcely imagine how a girl your size could fling a man like that out of harm’s way."

The waiter arrived with their wine glasses and placed them on the table. Without speaking, Jenny and Vastra switched their glasses so that the large glass of red wine was in front of Vastra.

"I suppose I don’t know my own strength," Clara conceded as she swilled her glass of wine. "So, he told you about it then?"

"Oh, only briefly," Vastra said. "The Doctor and I are old friends. Besides, he wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings between us after he stole my receptionist away this morning."

Clara realised after a moment that she was holding her breath. “Again… I am so sorry about that…”

"Don’t be," Vastra insisted. "If you hadn’t been running late, the Doctor would probably be in the hospital right now. Or the morgue."

Jenny frowned lightly. “Cheery thought, dear.”

"Well, it’s true!"

Clara looked between them both. It was becoming clear that the reason they had wanted to meet her for drinks had more to do with the Doctor than it did with her. There was something strange about him, something he kept hidden, and she was beginning to think that was what everyone else seemed to know about that she didn’t.

"So how long have you known the Doctor?" Clara asked.

"Oh, years," Vastra replied thoughtfully. "I met him when I was still working for a rival company. TARDIS Industries was just laying the groundwork, but somehow he persuaded me to come on board."

"Really?" Clara replied with an incredulous laugh. "An IT guy convinced you to leave your old job?"

Vastra’s eyes widened. “It… may seem a little bizarre, but yes. He was the one who told me of the position that had opened in the marketing department.”

"Ah." Clara wasn’t sure she believed her, but she didn’t know Vastra well enough to pry.

"Do you like your job, Clara?" Jenny asked with a friendly smile, changing the subject. "We’re not working you too hard?"

"Yes, but I like keeping busy."

The conversation dwindled after a while and the women sat in a comfortable silence as they sipped their wine. Vastra asked Jenny about something to do with their lodger and Clara’s mind wandered back to the Doctor. She couldn’t stop thinking about that moment at breakfast when his smile faded and a grey cloud seemed to hover over him. She just then remembered that it was after she had asked about getting to know one another better.

Apparently the Doctor was on Jenny’s thoughts as well. She asked if he’d helped her with her computer problem she’d had earlier that week.

"Oh, yes. It was really quite remarkable. I suppose that’s why the call him the Doctor?"

"One of the reasons, yes," said Jenny.

"So is he really a doctor?"

"Not a medical doctor, no, but he does have training."

"What…" Clara laughed. "What does that even mean?"

"The Doctor is a complicated man," Vastra explained. She was on her second glass of wine and her cheeks were now a rosy pink. "I think you’re good for him."

“ _Me_?" Clara replied quickly. "I barely know him."

"He’s been so reclusive lately," Jenny added. "He’s talked to us more in the past few days than he has in the past year."

"And you think that’s because of me?" Clara felt oddly flattered, but their reasoning seemed a bit faulty. "We’ve seriously only had one conversation. Two if you count when my computer froze."

 "Perhaps it’s just because you’re new," Vastra said. "Change can often be the impetus one needs to pull oneself out of a walking coma."

 "A walking coma?" Clara replied giddily. Vastra was very articulate, but a bit prone to hyperbole.

 "Well, yes. He hasn’t been rather withdrawn ever since his wife died."

 Clara stared at Vastra in disbelief. “What?”

 


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor’s eyes darted back and forth as he fiddled with the cords to Jenny and Vastra’s satellite receiver. Vastra had recently mentioned that that their surround speakers had stopped working properly ever since they switched satellite carriers. The Doctor had shown up early to their party, so instead of sitting on his hands, he figured he’d make himself useful.

"Oh,  _Doctor_ ,” Jenny chided when she spotted him on his hands and knees in front of the television. “You don’t have to do that.”

"Nonsense! I think I’ve almost got it figured out. Ah!" He flinched when something shocked his finger and he shook it out. He then received a similar shock when he looked up to see a blonde in a tiara and a rather magnificent pink dress standing where he expected Jenny to be. " _Blimey_.”

Jenny’s birthday was on the same day as Hallowe’en, so every year she celebrated with a fancy dress party to which that she invited nearly half of London. The Doctor hadn’t attended the year before, something Strax had made clear was unacceptable even as Jenny and Vastra attempted to discreetly discourage his insensitive behaviour.

He hopped to his feet when he finished rewiring and turned on the television to check the sound. Laughter echoed from the wireless speakers spaced strategically throughout the room. He grinned at Jenny, who thanked him with a familiar smile and a touch of her hand to his elbow. The Doctor tucked in his chin and blushed a little, but was forced to look up and grin when Vastra stepped into the living room dressed in the elaborate costume of the Wicked Witch of the West.

"Oh, it’s a theme!" he observed with delight.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Vastra asked curiously.

"Isn’t it..? Oh!"

He raised a finger, signalling for them to wait and see, and then removed his jacket to reveal the red and white striped turtleneck he was sporting underneath, and then pulled a matching knit cap from his back pocket and stretched it to fit atop his head. For the finishing touch, he placed a pair of thick, square-rimmed glasses onto his nose and grinned.

"Eh?" he said proudly as he spread his arms to properly display his costume. "Where’s Wally?"

Vastra and Jenny’s appreciative chortling was drowned out by the ringing of the doorbell. His smile faded as his friends disappeared to welcome the other guests, and he prepared himself for what would be an uncomfortable evening. The Doctor would smile and socialise and be as lively as anyone could be, but he felt incredibly outnumbered when so many unfamiliar faces filled their flat. He touched the cap on his head and thought of the Christmas when Amy had given it to him. He wondered if she and Rory would be celebrating the holiday in New York, or if they were even thinking of him or River. The Doctor found they were all he could think about anymore.

Music played lightly on the background in every room; something he helped to arrange by precise placement of the wireless speakers. He caught himself bobbing his head to the beat of songs he didn’t even know as he snacked on sweets and popcorn balls in the kitchen. It was funny how the majority of the people at the party were TARDIS employees and he couldn’t name half of them. There was a time when at least knew every face, but he had retreated so deeply into his own little corner that so many of the new employees had remained strangers to him.

Well, nearly all of the employees.

He heard her laughing in the foyer before he saw her. He slowly made his way to the dining room doorway from where he watched Clara greet Jenny and Vastra with warm hugs. He smiled when he saw her costume—Princess Leia’s iconic dress and hairstyle from the first  _Star Wars_  film. He sipped his drink and watched her put away her coat and hand Jenny a small, wrapped gift.

The Doctor found everything about Clara Oswald endearing. She had a way of truly engaging with people, even those who’d become disconnected and even a little standoffish after working too long in commercial London. They had only met a handful of times, yet already he could feel himself drawn to her, as if he were a fish on a hook and she kept reeling him in.

"May the Force be with you," he greeted when she approached. He didn’t know if she had walked his way to see him or if he’d just crossed her path. "Love the hair."

"Thank you. I’m surprised I was even able to spot you," she quipped, laughing pathetically at her little joke. "I was always rubbish at  _Where’s Wally.”_

The Doctor chuckled. Clara looked at him expectantly and, after a moment, he realised that he was probably supposed to say something. “Er—Can I fetch you a drink?”

She inhaled slowly as she waged some internal debate before grinning. “Yes, please! This  _is_  a party, after all.”

"It is, indeed."

They stayed in the kitchen for half an hour after he handed Clara her first drink chatting about everything and nothing. The Doctor realised he was keeping her from mingling with other people, but could care less every time her nose crinkled when she laughed. He was tempted to ask her about last Christmas, but he backed down every time the opportunity presented itself. Besides—it was pretty obvious she didn’t remember him.

Clara’s laughter unfortunately served as a beacon for an unexpected guest at the party, who appeared beside them as if he’d materialised out of thin air. The Doctor didn’t know whether or not to smile or groan at Jack's arrival.

"Turning on the charm already, Doctor?" his American friend greeted with a toothy grin. He was dressed in a white and navy airline pilot’s uniform, the matching hat tucked under his left arm as he offered Clara his right hand. "The name’s Jack, by the way. How do you do?"

"I am fine, thank you very much," Clara replied, sounding impressed than she should. "I’m Clara."

"Well  _hello_ , Clara,” Jack said roguishly before pressing a light kiss to the back of her hand. Clara giggled, and the Doctor selfishly hoped it was because she’d had too much to drink.

"Would you  _please_  stop?” the Doctor pleaded in exasperation.

"What?" Jack said defensively.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and finished Jack’s sentence for him. “You were just saying hello. You know you haven’t said hello to  _me_  yet.”

He regretted the words immediately. Jack took his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it as well. “No need to be so jealous.”

"What are you even doing here?" the Doctor asked, suppressing a smile even as he pulled his hand away. Jack was incorrigible, but it was good to see him.

"You didn’t think I’d miss a party like this, did you?"

Clara looked a little lost as she glanced between them both, so the Doctor added, “Jack works for the Cardiff office.”

"Oh. I didn’t even know there was a Cardiff office," she admitted with a little laugh of embarrassment.

"I take it you’re new to the company?" Jack said.

Clara nodded. “Only two months in.”

"Are you liking it?" Jack asked, leaning ever so slightly closer towards her.

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably and folded his arms. “ _Captain_ Harkness?”

Jack tore his gaze away from Clara. “Hmm?”

"Why do you have a badge on that says Captain Harkness?" the Doctor asked, eyeing Jack suspiciously. He added to Clara, "He’s not really an airline pilot."

A look of betrayal crossed Jack’s features before his trademark grin reappeared. “So… Long story.”

Five minutes later they were laughing loud enough to draw the attention of the entire party. Jack offered to freshen up the Doctor and Clara’s drinks and then disappeared to the bar after giving the Doctor a conspiratorial wink.

"So…" The Doctor began awkwardly. "Are you a big  _Star Wars_  fan?”

"I was when I was a kid. I had all the little figurines on a shelf in my bedroom. My friend Nina teased me mercilessly when she found it. Called it my secret shrine of shame."

The Doctor laughed.

"So what does this Jack Harkness do?" Clara asked curiously as she watched the dark-haired man chat up Cleopatra while he scooped ice cubes into their glasses.

The Doctor frowned. “His surname isn’t really Harkness,” he insisted. _It would be really cool if it were._ “He’s one of the head salesmen in Cardiff. He worked in London for a long time before transferring a few years ago.”

"Why did he transfer?"

"I think his name was Alonso."

Clara’s eyebrows shot up in understanding. “Ah, gotcha.”

Jack returned with full glasses for them both. Clara immediately took a large sip and the Doctor watched her warily. She was drinking awfully quickly for a person her size, but he wasn’t anyone’s mother. He took a sip of his own drink and nearly spat the liquid all over Jack’s white uniform. “It’s a good thing you’re not a barman. Did you even add any orange juice to this?”

Jack shrugged, which meant he was not-so-secretly trying to get them both drunk. Clara spotted someone she knew from marketing and excused herself. The Doctor watched her weave through the crowd into the lounge with a surge of disappointment.

"So, who is she?" Jack asked knowingly, leaning against the kitchen counter next to the Doctor as he sipped his own drink.

"I wish I knew," he replied enigmatically.

Hours later, the crowd had thinned considerably even though the noise level of the party continued to grow. Jack was in the dining room telling stories about his university days that left everyone around him struggling to breathe between fits of laughter. Jenny had to pull Strax away from a terrified couple he’d chased out of his bedroom with firecrackers. The Doctor could hear her screaming about burning the house down while he trotted upstairs to the bathroom.

He knocked twice to make sure no one was inside and the door swung open at his touch. He froze when he saw the familiar silhouette of Princess Leia draped over the rim of the toilet.

"Clara?"

She squinted up at him. “I haven’t gotten sick,” she insisted, then groaned. “Although I really,  _really_  wish that I would.”

The Doctor shut the door behind him and then knelt beside her on the floor. “Too much to drink?” he asked, pulling strands of loose hair from her eyes. She nodded and leaned into his touch. Her cheeks were warm. “Do you need some water?” he asked, unsure of what to do.

Clara shook her head. “God, I’m so embarrassed.”

"It’s alright," he assured her softly as he continued to smooth her hair back.

The Doctor became acutely aware of his heartbeat when she met his eyes. “I don’t usually drink like this… Ugh, and at my boss’ house.”

"Shh, it’s alright," he insisted as she sank against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and shifted to where he was sitting with his back against the bathtub. "You’re not at work now, Clara. It’s alright."

"You’re so nice," she mumbled into his jumper. "Why are you so nice?

He held her to him and smiled fondly. “Because you’ve always been so nice to me. Even though you don’t remember…”

"What?"

He rubbed her arm soothingly. “Nothing.” He sighed. “We should probably get you home to bed.”

Clara groaned and tugged weakly at his jumper when he tried to stand. He chuckled and settled back against the tub and placed his hand on top of her head.

"I suppose we could wait a few more minutes."

They sat in silence for the longest time. The Doctor felt her breathing slow and looked down to see that she’d fallen asleep. She looked so uncomfortable, so he tried holding her closer, but feared she’d wake up and get the wrong idea. Luckily someone walked in on them and they were forced to leave, but Clara was reluctant to move.

The Doctor lifted her into his arms and carried her downstairs. Jack spotted them and walked over, offering to drive them both home and he grabbed all of their coats. The Doctor made sure Jenny and Vastra knew that they were all leaving before he helped Clara into the back seat of Jack’s car.

"Clara? Hey." He patted her cheek lightly as her head lolled against the seatbelt. "What’s your address?"

She didn’t open her eyes. The Doctor looked helplessly to the driver’s seat, but Jack could only shrug.

"Clara? Can you hear me?" 


End file.
